Letters To A Rich Kid
by mylittlelifedoesntcountatall
Summary: Dean Ambrose is rich. Seth Rollins is poor. Dean Ambrose only cares about himself. Seth Rollins cares about everyone. Dean Ambrose doesn't want to help anyone but himself. Seth Rollins does everything he can to help others. Complete opposites, yet exactly the same. What happens when these two boys begin to share letters? Rated M for later on.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I finished writing Waiting, so I decided to write a new story! It's based on a Lés Misérables one that I read years ago, that was just all letters, and was pretty cool to be honest. Since Dean was poor and homeless in Waiting, I decided to make him rich in this, since no one ever really does. He's completely out of character, especially at the start, but he gets better, trust me.  
**

**I'm just gonna say it straight out, Dean's a dick in this. He has some really judgemental opinions, and he's really offensive to many people, so of anything offends you, please, please, don't take it the wrong way, as it's not my views, it's just for the story.**

**So, tell me what you think of this! Review, favourite & follow!**

**Ciara x**

Dear Whoever Is Reading This,

Well, hello there. Allow me to introduce myself (not that you have any choice, haha). I am Dean Jonathon Ambrose, the son of some of the richest people in the world. Honestly, I don't want to be writing this write now. This is absolutely absurd, writing to some poor, homeless person without a life. I laugh at you. You might not even be able to read something like this. So, I will try to put this letter into your language the best I can.  
My mum and dad forced me to write these letters. See, we're well known all over the United States, and we must keep our reputation in tact so that we are famous for the good things we do... Oh, that might've been to smart for you. Let me rephrase that. We have to be nice to people so they will like us. Is that better? Do you understand that? Because if you don't, I shouldn't be wasting my time writing letters to someone who can't understand the simplest of English.  
So here I am, writing to you with a black ballpoint pen. Ah, the ballpoint. Such a wonderful pen, isn't it? It's stub is not sharp, so it will not rip the paper. Do you even own a pen? Haha! Even though this letter is going to some person without a home, its presentation must not lack preparation. I shall not make mistakes. Mistakes are for people who have no education.  
I believe I have more to tell about myself. I am twenty years of age, currently living in the wonderful state of Ohio. It's a lovely place. I wonder where this letter is headed. My parents never told me which orphanage this was being sent off to. Not that I care, anyway. Now that I think about it, maybe they did tell me. I was just not in the mood to listen, I guess. Anyway, I also have a girlfriend named Aj. Oh, she is wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that I should be spending time with her instead of writing this stupid letter. Ugh, what my parents make me do. They can kiss my ass.  
I really hope my parents don't proof-read these letters. They wouldn't care either, anyway. They're too busy spending time with the clients and customers that they wouldn't even touch this letter. I guess the maid will just drop this off at the post, then.  
I could go on and on, really. I have loads of paper and tons of pens. I could tell you all about my fabulous living style, but I wouldn't want you to envy me. Not to mention that your brain is probably getting tired reading this letter.

Hoping I didn't make this too smart for you,

Dean Ambrose, May 1, 2014

Hey,

Well, I've waited ten days. I'm pretty sure the maid dropped this off. If she didn't, she'd be fired by now. Maybe this was sent to an illiterate orphan. That must be it.  
Since you're not planning on replying anytime soon, I might as well share more about me. As you already know, I have lots and lots of money. Maybe I should tell you more about what goes on in my life. There are a few things I've needed to get off my chest anyway.  
My parents have been holding countless parties. All of their clients end up attending, and I end up being bored out of my mind. I'm twenty, that's not old, is it? Anyways, usually I'll just spend the nights in my room writing these letters, chatting with Aj (my girlfriend, in case you didn't get the last letter), or looking for new stuff to buy. Sometimes I even go out by myself to the club or something. Just as long as I have something to do while my parents "party."  
I'm not at university, like most people. I take online courses. My parents don't want me to go, not that I'm complaining. I've been home-schooled pretty much my entire life. I don't know why my parents never approved of me going to an actual school, but I never complained. I have friends, so I'm fine with not going to a real school. At least I'm learning.  
I doubt you are. Usually people who are homeless have no education whatsoever. They're all dumb. Useless. I still don't see why they still stick around on the streets. It's not like they're getting anywhere. They should all just end their lives right now while they can.

I'm getting impatient,

Dean Ambrose, May 11 2014

Hi,

I did get your letter. Don't get your fancy panties in a twist, Dean Ambrose. And for your information, I can read and write. Quite well actually.  
I'm Seth Rollins, from Davenport, Iowa. You've sent your letter to an orphanage there. I've just been busy helping out, that's why I haven't been able to reply. But I have read your past two letters.  
I'm not very fond of you, Dean Ambrose. I'm not one of those street walkers who roam around looking for a job. I'm an 18-year-old orphan whose parents abandoned me when I was young. They set me up for adoption for some reason, and it's not a reason that I'd like to know. I hate them, and I don't even know them.  
You are so sterotypical, you know that? You think just because we have no home means we have no education. Let me just inform you that I have been taught a lot when I was young just by listening to people talk. There's a lot you can learn from gossip around town. Politics and stuff. History. A woman who works at the orphanage even taught me math. I might not be the smartest person, but I sure as hell know some things.  
I've never gotten the opportunity to go to school. You're lucky you're even home-schooled. My parents abandoned me when I was a baby, so I practically grew up in this orphanage. It's not really a home, but it'll do for now. Honestly I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to stay here. I'm 18 already, turning 19 in a couple of days. I'm only able to stay because I help take care of the little kids here.  
So if I don't reply ever, you'll know why. If you visit, maybe you'll see me on the streets.  
I don't know why I'm even writing back. I can tell from your letters that you're some stuck-up rich kid with all the power who cares for nothing but himself. I guess I'm only responding because I have nothing else to do, no one else to talk to. It's pretty lonely in this orphanage. Most of the kids here just cry all the time. No one even bothers to adopt me, either. The only people I talk to here are the staff, and Daniel. He's 16, so he's easier to talk to. He's my buddy here. But rumour has it that he's gonna be adopted soon. I'm gonna miss him if he is.  
I know I'm gonna regret saying this, but tell me more about your life. It seems interesting. I've never had a real home, a girlfriend, parents, or even a warm bed to sleep in at night. Tell me more about the simple things that the wealthy have access to. Maybe if you describe it to me really well, I can picture it in my dreams and actually feel as if I'm the rich kid.  
What does it feel like, being rich? Obviously it must be amazing, since you have a car and such. I've only been in a car once. Mostly I just take the bus or train. But what's your car like? What does it feel like to drive? 'Cause I have no idea.  
Teach me more, Dean Ambrose. I'd really like to know.

I'd really like it if you replied,

Seth, May 18 2014


	2. Chapter 2

**So so so so sorry I haven't updated in ages; I pretty much jut forgot about this story. Don't worry, though, more updates to come later tonight. Thanks for sticking with it.**

**Ciara x**

* * *

Hey,

Glad you got my letter. And when I read it, I was honestly surprised. I didn't expect you to actually know anything about the English language. And since you want to know so much about my life, I'll tell you.

I live in a mansion. There are plenty of designs for different kinds of mansions, and I'm no house builder, so I'll skip the little details. It's four stories, has a back garden, large parking garage, fifteen bedrooms (not including my family's) outdoor swimming pool. We have some servants, maybe, I don't know, eight? I don't really pay attention to the staff. They're here to work, not socialize, so I don't exactly know their names. All I know is that there are enough to serve a party of about a hundred people.

I'm guessing you'd want to know about the parties. Like I said before, they're pretty boring. Just a bunch of people dressed formally, fancy wines and an assortment of foods that I don't know. Classical music, weird ballroom dancing, I don't know. I'm not into that. I'm more of a fun person, not some kind of aristocrat. I like to go out and have fun, dance to the music that isn't really music anymore. That's why I go to clubs instead of sticking around at those stupid parties.

They're for adults. Quite frankly, I don't consider myself an adult yet. I'm still twenty years young.

Oh, and my car? A Ferrari. I'm not a car engineer, so I don't exactly know the parts of a car, but it feels amazing to drive. You feel so free. There's nothing better than cranking up the tunes and opening the window to feel the breeze of the outside. Only thing that sucks is the traffic. Gotta watch out for that, you'll never know when you'll get into an accident.

You've seriously only been in a car once? You're missing out. I've taken the train a couple of times, mostly when my car was in a repair shop and I had to get somewhere. The people who take the train are weird. They look so... blah. So boring, you know? There's nothing worse than the middle class. Middle class people are so annoying. Especially with their children running around all over the place. Those kids need to learn some self-control. Well, at least until they've grown up. Then they can do pretty much whatever they want.

And I don't see how you only have one friend over there. You're all homeless, so you should have something to talk about. Complain to each other about your lives. Because isn't that all what homeless people do? Complain about their lives and how unfortunate they are? Really, it's annoying. It's not our fault that they're living on the streets, so why whine about it to us?

I really hope you're not one of those people. I don't want to hear you complain about your pathetic life. None of it's my fault, so don't come crying to me. I'm just here so my parents will lay off.

I don't really care if you reply,

Dean Ambrose, May 25 2014

Hi,

Sorry it's taken me a few days to reply. It was my birthday on the 28th, so I was celebrating a bit. The lady at the adoption counter gave me some money, so I went to this bakery to buy myself a cupcake. It's been, like, 5 years since I'd had one. The guy at the register, his name was Cody. He saw the rags I had on and asked me what I was doing there. I told him it was my birthday, so he gave me a candle and a box of matches. I clearly remember what he told me.

"Better make that wish worth it."

I'm not exactly sure what he meant by that. I don't even know why he gave me the candle in the first place. So, I just sat down and ate my cupcake. There was no wish. I don't understand. But I kept the candle and matches, since people don't usually give me stuff anyway. I cherish it.

After I finished the cupcake, I took a stroll in the park. I saw little kids running around. Just thought I would point out that they were having fun. That's what you do when you're a little kid. Because once you grow old, you can't exactly run around the park anymore. I'm pretty sure even rich children like to go there and play. I'm guessing you never have.

So anyways...

After the visit to the park, I went to the grocery store. Yes, the grocery store. I think the kitchen staff at the orphanage goes there, but they never take any of us with them. I didn't have a lot of money left, so I settled for a pack of gum. I don't really know why I went there in the first place. Maybe it was because I wanted to be surrounded by the food I know I can't have.

My final destination was McDonalds. Now, you might be wondering, why McDonalds? Well, first off, I was really hungry. I had only enough for a cheap dinner, and instead of eating the orphan food, I got some McDonalds. I can't tell you how amazing it felt to eat that greasy food. Like heaven to my mouth. Much, much better than the food they serve at the shelter. I still kind of taste it.

Oh, and about your parties. They seem cool. I kind of like classical music, like, the blues and stuff. And you said that they have food that you don't even know. I'd like to try some of that. Even if it tastes like shit, I'll eat it (not that I know what shit tastes like, haha). I'm not much of a dancer, but ballroom dancing isn't too hard, is it? Isn't the waltz only three steps or something? Eh, I don't know. Point is, your parties seem cool. I wish I could go to one.

And as I'm reading over your last letter, I'm gonna tell you right now, I'm not a huge complainer. When I tell you these things, I'm not complaining, I'm only sharing these things with you. You might think it's complaining, but to me, it's a whole other thing.

The kids here don't really complain. They have no reason to. It's the rich kids who complain the most. You know why? Because they grew up, expecting to get whatever they want, and when they don't, they complain about it. Us poor kids already have nothing, so we have nothing to complain over.

Besides, I'm a good listener. If a kid needs advice or whatever, I'll help them with it.

So, Dean Ambrose, if there's ever something bothering you, you can tell me, and I'll try and help you as best as I can.

And I'm not a rich kid. So don't expect the best advice.

Rant on,

Seth, May 31 2014

Wow,

You seriously don't know about birthday wishes? Ha, I find that absolutely ridiculous. I thought you heard things on the street, and yet, you've never heard about birthday wishes. Hmph.

Well, I'll tell you. Whenever it's someone's birthday, usually their parents will get you a cake (oh, wait, you don't have parents. I forgot). They stick candles in the cake and light the wick. The birthday boy/girl will blow out the candles, and make a wish. They can't say it out loud. They can't tell anybody what their wish is, or it won't come true.

So it looks as if you've wasted your birthday wish. But I seriously have nothing to wish for. I already have everything that I've ever wanted. It's not like the wishes come true, either. They're fucking candles for fuck's sake.

My parents held another party the day you wrote your last letter. I asked my mother what some of the food was, and even she didn't know. So I asked the staff, and they replied, "You don't wanna know." I demanded to know what the food was, and still they wouldn't tell me.

I examined the food myself, and god, I found fucking snails. Snails, can you believe that? I've been eating snails!

I questioned my mother about it, and apparently, snails are a delicacy. "Only people with the finest taste in food will like escargot," she told me. I've been eating that stuff for the past ten years thinking it was chicken. Completely lost my appetite on snails, by the way.

And I'm glad that you're letting me complain. Usually when I try to complain to my dad he always shooes me away. I try talking to Aj sometimes, but she's very busy with her modeling job. My best friend Phil is away at Uni, and the only person I'm in contact with is you. So right now, I'm a bit lonely.

So, what's it like at the orphanage? I wouldn't know; I wouldn't step one foot in that sort of filthy place. But I'm curious, and there's not much to talk about. And this "Daniel" person, what's he like? Maybe he's like Phil, but I seriously doubt it.

Go on, Seth Rollins. Tell me about your life. Your daily routine. I'll keep a bucket nearby just in case I need to vomit.

Your turn,

Dean Ambrose, June 13 2014

Hi,

You seriously caught me off-guard. You want to know about my life? I'm completely surprised, Dean Ambrose.

The orphanage itself isn't that bad. The ladies who work here are nice. Sometimes we get food at a soup kitchen nearby, or just have food that the staff makes at the orphanage. There are multiple rooms for all the orphans. There are bunk beds, two in each room, but that's for the kids. 14-18 year-olds have to only room with one other person. You room with the same gender you are, or that'd be pretty awkward. The beds are okay, the mattresses squeak sometimes, but I'm not complaining. I'm able to fall asleep on mine, so I'm good. Nearly every room even has a small TV so the kids don't get bored.

What do I do during the day? Like I said, I'm too old to be here. I should've been released by now, but I help out, so they let me stay. So I wake up, and I work. The whole day, pretty much. If I'm not needed to lift something or help in the kitchen, sometimes I'll spend time with the little kids to keep them occupied. It helps the staff a lot.

When I'm not needed at all (like a day off or something) I'll just sit in my room and play guitar. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I play the guitar. I'll tell you the story.

When I was 11 or so, I found a guitar in the lobby. I asked whose it was, and the lady at the desk, Charlotte, told me it belonged to someone named William. Apparently he was the owner of a music shop downtown, and he'd donated it to anyone who wanted to play it. I told Charlotte that I was interested in playing, so every Monday she'd take me down to the music shop so William could teach me. We called it "Music Monday."

I started going more frequently, when the lessons became more advanced. Soon enough, I was at the music shop five days a week. But when I turned 15, William passed away. I didn't want to give up on guitar, though, so I practiced by myself. William did say that I had quite a knack for guitar for someone who was so young. I really didn't see anything special, though.

So yeah.

In between, William's friend Steve would stop by and teach me how to sing. Sometimes I'd watched performances on TV of some of the big pop stars out there and it looked pretty cool. So Steve taught me a bunch of vocal techniques. Once William died though, the music store closed, and I didn't see Steve anymore.

But I still sing and play guitar to this day. The radio plays in the lobby, so I always hear different songs.

But yeah, that's pretty much my entire life here. I'm sure it's not as interesting as yours.

Oh, that's right. Daniel was adopted a few days ago. I really miss him, he's the guy I grew up with, ya know? But in other news, a new guy arrived here. His name's Roman. He's 17, actually from Florida. I wonder why he ended up here. He's my new room mate.

He was pretty quiet the first day. I felt bad for the kid, but I didn't pity him. I tried talking to him, but he only looked up at me with his puppy dog eyes that made me want to melt. He cried for hours, and I sat there with him to whole time, just holding him and telling him it was gonna be okay. I told him he was going to be adopted, and that he was safe in the orphanage.

Ironic, huh? I told someone two years younger than me that he was going to be adopted, when I was 19, practically raised in this orphanage, and was never adopted.

So I played guitar for him to try and calm him down. Turns out he can sing too! He's really good. He even knew a bit of guitar, and he told me he also knows a bit of piano. Too bad we don't have one here, I'd like to hear him play.

But he was still upset after I played for him, so I asked him what he wanted to do, and he said he wanted to watch The Lion King. He may be 17, but he's sure a kid at heart.

So we spent the night watching The Lion King and cuddling. Just trying to calm him down, make him feel comfortable.

So yeah, that's my life.

And sorry that I threw in extra. You probably don't even care.

Whatever,

Seth, June 23 2014

'Sup,

Wow, I didn't know you played guitar. Honestly I sing a bit too. I also play piano quite well. We have a grand piano in the ballroom, so sometimes I play for the guests at my parents' parties.

You're all right, I guess. You've proven to me that at least you know about music. If you didn't, I might've gone there just to slap you.

So Roman's your new friend, eh? Seems like a pretty emotional kid. I wouldn't wanna deal with him. I'm not sure how you could just sit there watching some kiddy movie while he cries in your arms. Never would I ever do that. The only person I would really do that for is Aj. But she's in New York right now for her job, so... I think I'm even more lonely than before.

But anyways, my life isn't that exciting either, really. You'd think that my life would be soooo fun, but really it's boring. I have friends, but most of them are at Uni, and not all of them have Skype. It sucks. Well, at least I have you to talk to.

I'm not sure what to talk about. Um, I kinda ran out of things to say. Maybe you can tell me more about what you like about music? I really love music. I listen to anything, really, but my favourite band's The Fray. Have you heard of them? I think you'd really like their music.

Well, I guess that's it. Sorry I can't entertain you further.

Bye for now,

Dean Ambrose, June 28 2014


	3. Chapter 3

Dean. Jonathon. Ambrose,

Well, aren't you just full of surprises? You're rich. Your life should be much more fun than mine. I'm just so shocked that you want to hear more about me. Or... read more about me. Haha.

But yeah, I know The Fray. That song "You Found Me" is always on the radio, and I think "How To Save A Life" is on sometimes too. They're really inspirational, actually. And I know that you might think I'm gay now or something, but I actually like One Direction a bit. Their songs are catchy, easy to listen to, ya know?

But that's pretty much it for the music I really like. I like all kinds of music, almost. Then again I'm not exposed to every single type of genre, so I might not know what else is out there. But that song "Happy" is fucking stuck in my head. Every single damn radio station plays that song. It's so annoying, but it's so catchy. That song might be the death of me.

Oh yeah! I almost forgot to mention this, but Charlotte bought me my own radio! So instead of listening to it in the lobby, I can just listen to it in my room. I think it was a late birthday present or something.

And about Roman, he's doing okay now. He's still a bit shaken up, you know, just being kicked out of his house like that at 17. But he's doing just fine now, in case you were wondering (although I know you weren't). I swear, the boy's got the voice of an angel. Sometimes I play a song on guitar and he sings along to it.

The other day I asked Charlotte if Roman and I could perform for the little kids. She thought it was a great idea, so she gathered all the kids in the lobby and Roman and I sang "Torn" by Natalie Imbrugalia for them. None of them really know what it's actually about, so we were safe, I think. They absolutely loved it! I'm so glad they did.

I think it was after that performance, that it was the first time Roman smiled since he got here. When I saw him smile, I got this really warm and fuzzy feeling inside, like he's really passionate about what he does.

Music's amazing, you know? It saves lives. Like "How To Save A Life," for example, hence the title. I've been listening to the radio a lot more recently, using the one that Charlotte gave me. You honestly don't know how lucky I feel now. To you, a radio is nothing. But to me, it's pretty much everything.

And I was kinda wondering about your loneliness. Do you have any siblings you could talk to? You never really mentioned any, so I was curious to know. You don't seem like the type of person to have siblings... well, I can't really judge from a letter, can I?

What's it like to have a sibling? I honestly don't remember if I have a sibling or not. I wasn't home long enough to know. That's what I wonder about my family. Like, if I had a sibling, why did they get rid of me? If they didn't want me in the first place, was I a mistake or something? Did they just happen to "accidentally" fuck and make me? See, that's why I hate my parents. You might be thinking, how can I hate my parents if I dont know them? I don't know, I just do.

Oh wait, you don't care. You have parents and everything. They raised you. They kept you. They didn't hand you to an orphanage and say, "Oh, take my baby, I don't love it, so I don't want it." You wouldn't know how I felt. That's why you just call us peasants and don't care about how we feel. But you know what, Dean Ambrose? You don't care, because you would never know how it felt. You wouldn't know how it feels to know that your parents didn't want you. You wouldn't know what it's like growing up in an orphanage and worrying every day that you might end up on the streets one day if you weren't adopted.

Do you know how much I worry about that? I'm 19 years old for fuck's sake! In probably 6 months time I'll be on the streets. Then you can fly over to Davenport and laugh at me playing guitar, trying to earn some extra cash.

Okay, you know what? I'll just stop writing here. Sorry I went off on a bit of a tangent. You don't care about any of the shit that goes on in my life here.

But I'll have you know, Dean Ambrose, that I care about your life. I guess I'm just that type of person.

Bye,

Seth, July 3 2014

Jeez,

Calm your fucking tits, Seth Rollins. I don't care about your life, and you wanna know why? It's not my fucking fault that your parents left you. It's not my fault that your living in an orphanage. It's not my fault that your life sucks right now. Like I said before, I don't want to read you complaining about your life. And why do you care about my life? You shouldn't. It's not yours. And you'll never have it. So why care about it?

And you know what? I doubt my parents really gave a fuck about me. All they did to raise me was give birth to me. The maids and servants practically raised me my entire life. And at least the ladies at the orphanage are nice. Sometimes I would get spanked by my mum if I didn't do something right.

And yeah, I have four sisters. But they're girls. I don't have a brother. And you know what? All my sisters are younger than me. Do you know... oh wait, never mind. Of course you know what it's like to have four screaming girls whining all over the place that their dresses aren't the right material, or that their hair doesn't turn out right. It's annoying as hell, Seth Rollins. Trust me, you wouldn't want any siblings of the opposite sex.

But Seth, maybe your parents did want to keep you. Maybe... maybe your mum was too scared, or you dad wasn't ready. You don't know the reason why your parents gave you up, so you can't automatically assume that they didn't want you once you were born. I'm just trying to see it from the parents' point of view.

By the way, I'm glad you know about The Fray. That Roman dude... he seems like an okay guy, I guess. Being a kid on the inside and stuff. To be honest, I wish I was still sixteen. Thinking that I'm twenty right now is just... it's mind-blowing. It's not easy, knowing that you're not a teenager anymore, you know? I'm actually kinda jealous of Roman. He's able to keep that kid inside him. Me... if I was caught dancing around naked in the house, my parents would definitely suspend my license or something.

There. I admitted something, because honestly, I have nothing to lose. These are just letters. I'm not losing my dignity here, especially since I'm talking to someone of the lowest class. It actually feels kind of good to get something off my chest. It's hard holding everything in. And... I think you would understand what it's like to not be able to tell someone something. Isn't it that way with everyone, anyway?

And um, if we could just, not fight over these letters. I'm just extremely lonely and I don't want to lose the one person who'll actually talk to me.

Bye,

Dean Ambrose, July 9 2014


End file.
